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Appropriating a Golden Age: Models of Social Change in Ahmet Hamdi Tanpinar’s A Mind at Peace Undergraduate Research Thesis Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for graduation “with Honors Research Distinction in English” in the undergraduate colleges of The Ohio State University by Laila Ujayli The Ohio State University April 2018 Project Advisor: Professor Steven Fink, Department of English Ujayli 1 Section I: Introduction In 2009, former president Barack Obama visited Turkey and met with Deniz Baykal, the leader of Turkey’s opposition party. During their meeting, Baykal gifted Obama two books, explaining, “So you just don’t understand Turkey through your ties with the governing and opposition parties in parliament, I’m presenting you with these two works of literature. In these books you will find the nuances of our culture and identity” (Schuessler). Ahmet Hamdi Tanpinar’s A Mind at Peace was one of these two novels1. In 1948, Tanpinar published A Mind at Peace in serial form in the newspaper, Cumhuriyet, and then as a book in 1949 (Göknar 450). The novel grew in popularity after Tanpinar’s death in 1962, and is now considered a milestone modernist novel of Turkish literature (Göknar 486). English- speaking readers, however, could not access A Mind at Peace until 2008, when Erdag Göknar translated the novel into English. A Mind at Peace centers on a young man named Mümtaz and his struggles coping with his cousin İhsan’s illness, the demise of his summer romance with an older woman, Nuran, and the suicide of his rival, Suad. In the novel, Mümtaz, an aspiring historical fiction writer, expresses his frustration with his own novel-in-progress. “Does a novel have to start at one point and end at another?” he asks. “Do characters have to move rigidly like locomotives on fixed rails? Maybe it’s sufficient if the story line takes life itself as a framework, gathering it around a few characters” (213). According to Mümtaz, a novel only needs to adhere to a single condition: “The narrative should describe us and our contexts” (213). Mümtaz’s thoughts about his own work reflect the structure of A Mind at Peace. Tanpinar gathers the novel around four central characters, each serving as the title of one of the                                                                                                                 1 Sait Faik Abasiyanik wrote the second novel Baykal presented to President Obama (Schuessler). Ujayli 2 book’s four parts. Although all four parts include flashbacks to past events, the narrative proper of the first and final parts, “İhsan” and “Mümtaz,” is told over the span of twenty-four hours, as Mümtaz walks through Istanbul on the eve of the Second World War. The middle parts, “Nuran” and “Suad,” span a single summer, recounting the story of Mümtaz’s romance with Nuran, from their first meeting to their eventual separation. By exploring the characters’ personal lives, A Mind at Peace’s highlights the Turkish experience. Throughout the novel, characters reflect on life in Istanbul—the streets, the culture, and the political upheaval that characterized the 1920s and 1930s. No character appears satisfied with the current state of affairs. However, each has a different perspective on what Turkey should be in the future. By using Ottoman classical music as a synecdoche for Turkey, Tanpinar’s primary characters each advocate for a model of social change. At the time of its publication, A Mind at Peace’s celebration of history and Ottoman classical music opposed Turkey’s dominant political and social trends. Mustafa Kemal, better known as Atatürk, had implemented a series of westernizing reforms that tried to separate the new Turkish state from its Ottoman forefathers. Kemal’s reforms, and the frustrations that inspired them, are an important component of A Mind at Peace. Therefore, as Mümtaz advises, I will describe some necessary context. Section II: From Osman to Atatürk According to legend, a late-thirteenth century tribal chieftain named Osman dreamed of a tree that “sprouted from his naval” and encompassed the world in its shade. A Sufi Sheikh told Osman that the dream meant his family would someday rule over a vast territory. Inspired to create this Ottoman empire, Osman and his descendants began the process of gradual territorial Ujayli 3 expansion and consolidation of power. Osman’s dream was realized in 1453, when Mehmed the Conqueror captured Constantinople, ended the Byzantine Empire, and gave the Ottomans a true imperial state (Kafadar 152). In his new capital at Constantinople, Mehmed the Conqueror described himself as “the ruler of the two seas and the two continents” (Kafadar 152). His description was apt. At its height, the Ottoman Empire controlled a region that stretched from the Balkans to the Middle East and across Northern Africa. Ottoman rule was largely decentralized, with provinces retaining their own languages, religions and customs. While the vast differences between the Ottomans and their outlying provinces would ultimately figure into the Empire’s decline, the Empire’s diversity granted the Ottomans a unique legacy. The multiethnic and multidenominational features of the Ottoman Empire informed its cultural landscape, particularly in the arenas of music, architecture, and poetry. In his book Makam: Modal Practice in Turkish Art Music, Karl L. Signell writes, “The vast embrace of [the Ottoman Empire] is reflected in the variety of nationalities, religions, and social stations of typical composers of the period” (5). Ethnic and religious minorities, as well as women, featured significantly in Ottoman music, particularly in the folk music of the countryside (Signell 5). These diverse artistic traditions were also visible in Constantinople’s skyline, where mosque complexes and medreses blended both Islamic and Byzantine architectural styles. Mystical Sufi orders, like the Mevlevî, also greatly influenced Ottoman culture by uniting religion and art in their poetry and music. Gradually, the Mevlevî Order came to represent the Ottoman artistic and intellectual elite (Hammarlund 1). The Mevlevî concept of musiki, referring to “intellectually underpinned music,” was practiced and developed almost exclusively by the Ottoman high classes in Ujayli 4 cosmopolitan centers like Constantinople, Damascus, and Alexandria (Hammarlund 2-5). Some politicians and princes began to preserve and compose music (Signell 5). And eventually, musiki became the purview of the very highest members of the Ottoman Empire—its sultans. Multiple sultans earned a reputation for their musical talents. Thus, music came to reflect not only the Ottoman Empire’s culture but also the individuals who presided over the Empire itself. Moreover, political and cultural changes often occurred simultaneously and were associated with one another. For example, the first period of major imperial reform coincided with what is considered to be the Golden Age of Ottoman Classical Music (Signell 5). Sultan Selim III (1761-1808), a member of the Mevlevî order, a patron of the arts, and a notable composer, introduced these modernizing reforms, called the “New Order” (Göknar 447). The New Order would be the first of many reforms implemented during the empire’s lifespan. This legacy of simultaneous cultural and political transformation would become a predominant theme in Ottoman history. As the centuries progressed, the Ottoman Empire’s decentralization plagued its ability to control its provinces. The unique identities of each province also challenged the Ottoman Empire’s ability to create a distinct “Ottoman” identity. Furthermore, the Ottomans’ autocratic structure rapidly lost popularity in the face of Western European modernization and democratization. The Ottoman Empire attempted to remedy these challenges during the Tanzimat Era, literally the “Reform Era,” which began in 1839 and ended in 1876 (Findley 11). The Tanzimat sought to end political decentralization and reassert the authority of the sultans (Findley 11). In his chapter, “The Tanzimat,” Carter Vaughn Findley writes, “Even as recurrent crises threatened the superstructure of multinational empire, at its core, state, economy, society, and culture all displayed great dynamism in this period. The Tanzimat reforms produced new Ujayli 5 legislation, programmes, institutions, and elites. Statesmen and intellectuals strove to hold Ottoman society together by redefining Ottoman identity and guaranteeing rights at the individual, communal, and empire-wide levels” (Findley 37). The Tanzimat’s reforms also literally changed the face of Constantinople, as the city was nearly entirely rebuilt in Western styles throughout the nineteenth century, with only the mosque complexes and ancient structures surviving (Madden 324). The modernizing reforms of the Tanzimat, however, only sparked a greater desire for democracy and constitutional government (Madden 324). As a result, two Constitutional Eras would follow with further reforms, driven first by the Young Ottomans and then the Young Turks, aimed at pushing for a constitutional government and westernization. Both these movements, however, would still emphasize the importance of Islam as the foundational basis of the Ottoman Empire (Madden 343). Again, these reforms would be insufficient. Ethnic conflict, political upheaval, and economic challenges plagued the Ottoman Empire in its latter years. Then, nearly six centuries after its inception, the Ottoman Empire limped into the First World War on behalf of the Central Powers and signed its death warrant. Despite an important victory at Gallipoli, the Ottoman Empire and its allies lost the war. Two years after the 1918 armistice, the Treaty of Sévres divided the Ottoman Empire—distributing significant portions of its territories to the Greeks or to be governed under French or Italian mandates. A coalition of Western nations would administer Constantinople, where the Ottoman sultans would rule in name alone (Madden 334). By the time the Ottoman Empire crumbled to the tune of genocide and political subjugation, very few were saddened by its departure (Gingeras 5). Its decline, however, would leave a lasting impression on its subjects. In his book, Fall of the Sultanate: The Great War and Ujayli 6 the End of the Ottoman Empire, Ryan Gingeras argues that the extreme violence and upheaval that characterized the empire’s final ten years exist as “a critical open wound that many peoples residing in the Balkans, North Africa, and Caucasus, and the Middle East still carry” (6). The uneven economic development of Ottoman territories would plague some of its provinces’ ability to modernize for years. The physical and human cost of genocide and ethnic cleansing, particularly in the Empire’s Armenian and Greek communities, was enormous. In The Cambridge History of Turkey, Andrew Mango writes that outside of Constantinople, the “country was devastated, its population reduced, and the fabric of the multi-ethnic and multi- confessional society destroyed” (Mango 159). Additionally, the chaos deprived the Ottomans’ citizens and subjects the “prosperity and peace needed for future intellectual and material growth,” having profound cultural implications (Gingeras 6). Gingeras also writes, “All present- day nations derived from the empire’s collapse share a common sense of loss and humiliation as a consequence of this era”(Gingeras 6). Thus, the Ottoman Empire’s latter years and decline tarnished its legacy. Its final years created a desire to distance any new successor states from the “loss and humiliation” associated with the Empire’s decline. The cultural and artistic traditions, like musiki, being so closely associated with the elite only exacerbated the impetus to diminish any Ottoman vestige, an impetus that would drive a young commander who rose to notoriety at Gallipoli, Mustafa Kemal (Mango 155). Rallying Turkish Nationalist forces, Mustafa Kemal, later given the surname Atatürk, drove out the occupying Allied forces in the Turkish War of Independence. In 1922, Kemal pushed the Greeks out of their gained territories. In 1923, Allied troops evacuated Constantinople (Madden 337). That same year, an Assembly in Ankara decreed that their new Ujayli 7 state would be a constitutional republic, moved its capital from Constantinople to Ankara, renamed Constantinople Istanbul, and officially established the Republic of Turkey (Madden 337). As Turkey’s first President, Mustafa Kemal was eager to distinguish Turkey from the Ottoman Empire. In 1924, Kemal and the National Assembly abolished the caliphate and reduced the power of the country’s religious institutions (Madden 342). After regaining lands lost to the Greeks, Kemal did not seek to reclaim the Ottoman’s Empire’s former provinces. Kemal and his supporters wanted to construct Turkey, not resurrect the Ottoman Empire (Madden 335). As Christians, Muslim Albanians, and Arabs all attained their own distinct states, the search for an Ottoman identity was replaced by a desire to create a single Turkish national identity (Mango 162). Kemal and his supporters would work to build this new identity as they shaped Turkey and cast aside the remnants of the Ottoman Empire. “Uncivilized people are doomed to remain under the feet of those who are civilized,” Kemal argued. To Kemal, civilization and modernization equated westernization (Mango 162). As a result, he implemented a series of economic, social, and cultural reforms that would synchronize Turkey with the West (Mango 163). He required the adoption of legal surnames, a Western standard, and adopted the Christian Sunday as the day off instead of the Muslim Friday. The Gregorian calendar replaced the Muslim calendar (Madden 344). Kemal imposed European dress, banning the fez and preaching against the veil (Mango 164). In 1928, Roman letters replaced Arabic script throughout the country (Madden 344). Mango illustrates the concrete influence of this reform: Young people who went to school after 1929 could not read books printed in the Arabic alphabet before that date; after the mid- and late 1930s they could no longer understand Ujayli 8 these books even if they were printed in the Latin alphabet, for much of the old Arabic and Persian vocabulary had been banished from the Turkish language (Mango 166-167). Consequently, the linguistic changes profoundly affected Turkey’s educational system and, when coinciding with the myriad of other westernizing reforms, widened the new gulf between Turkey and its Ottoman past. While Kemal’s reforms did not entirely transform some aspects of Turkey’s conservative Muslim society, the reforms did rapidly change the country in significant and highly visible ways, chronicled by scholars and authors at the time. Kemal’s death in 1938, fifteen years after he took power, was deeply felt by the new country. The loss of such a symbolic figure came at an especially difficult time in Europe, for one year after Kemal’s death, World War II began. Section III: Ahmet Hamdi Tanpinar Born in 1901, Ahmet Hamdi Tanpinar experienced the dramatic reforms of the Kemalist Cultural Revolution first-hand. As a young man, Tanpinar watched the Ottoman Empire collapse. The National Assembly established the Republic of Turkey the same year Tanpinar received his literature degree from Istanbul University. Like others in his generation, Tanpinar grew up learning Arabic script, but as a high school teacher and university professor, taught students who read Turkish in Roman letters. As a result, many of his poems, essays, and novels highlight the consequences of Turkey’s westernizing reforms and the identity crisis he believed the reforms created. Tanpinar’s use of art and literature to engage in political conversations was not atypical of Turkish novels. In The Cambridge History of Turkey, Erdağ Göknar—the English translator of A Mind at Peace—explains that Turkish literature was often in conversation with politics. Ujayli 9 Göknar writes, “By the early 1910s, the novel became overtly politicized and was used as a vehicle for intellectual debates concerning state and society” (Göknar 473). In his chapter, “The novel in Turkish: narrative tradition to Nobel Prize,” Göknar devises a new periodization of Turkish novels that marked eras by important social and political milestones. In this new periodization, Göknar situates A Mind at Peace in an era he refers to as “Turkist social nationalism,” which was characterized by a prevalence of national allegories in which protagonists served as representations of Turkey. A Mind at Peace, however, was distinct for two main reasons. First, the novel was more complex than the era’s other straightforward allegories (Göknar 486). Second, A Mind at Peace was one of the first novels to address the identity crisis arising from Kemalism’s modernizing and westernizing reforms. Göknar writes, “In Ahmet Hamdi Tanpınar’s work, the reader is confronted not with object lessons, morality or didactic ‘party’ novels espousing the Kemalist vision of society and history, but with a complex reckoning of the transition between Ottoman and Turkist states” (486). Turkey’s identity crisis, or mental duality, described the challenge of situating Turkey within either the East or the West, creating what Tanpinar viewed as a crisis of civilization (Atis 304). Unable to fully embrace either a European or Ottoman identity, Turkey suffered from a cultural anxiety that inhibited it from creating a meaningful intellectual and cultural narrative. According Tanpinar, the absence of this narrative promoted mediocrity and created a dehumanized society, without distinctive art, literature, or identity (Sezer 435). However, Turkey did not need to construct an entirely new narrative. Instead, Tanpinar believed that a collective narrative for Turkey should be mined from the past. In his essay collection, Five Cities, Tanpinar writes, “The day we realize true creativity begins with preserving what already exists will make us happy” (Tanpinar 463). The desire to preserve the

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its notation (Signell 39). Thus Ujayli 17 inspired by Kemal's speech, Ercüment Behzat Lav, a senior announcer and director on state- owned radio
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